


willing to wait for it

by cherryvanilla



Series: Yuletide Assignments and Treats [14]
Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Dates, M/M, Meet-Cute, New York City, Restaurants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In addition to mind-numbing conversations, Jesse gets to witness a whole slew of things at his job. Breakups, awkward first dates, familiar dates that are taking their conversation a little too far in public (which also ends up being awkward), celebrities he doesn't recognize half the time (Emma just shakes her head as they pass each other and then later shows him on her phone just whom he was serving, while Jesse pretends to care). </p><p>Tonight, it definitely seemed to be first date territory for table 22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	willing to wait for it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitnotgood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitnotgood/gifts).



> Based on this tumblr prompt: "You’re my waiter and I’m on a really crappy date with an asshole."
> 
> Couldn't really decide what to write you, bitnotgood, so you've got this and two others. Hope you enjoy them!

The thing about working in a "trendy" New York City restaurant is trendy is really code for hipster and Jesse gets to overhear boring, bordering on pretentious, conversations while just trying to take people's orders.

"You're a little pretentious yourself, man,” Kristen points out. “In fact, this entire conversation could be defined as rather pretentious.” And alright, that’s possibly true. But the stuff he hears is just--- ridiculous at best. And very often offensive to his ears.

Like one of his first nights on the job: 

_"I'm just saying Mamet is still a generational playwright who is evolving with the times and Neil Labute is permanently stuck in the 90s.”_

"You are so fucking wrong it's ridiculous how wrong you are," Jesse had muttered to himself while he went to get another bottle of wine.

Or last month: 

_"Look, it's not like they're reinventing the wheel by putting rap and hip-hop and people of color into this historical context.”_

"Someone should reinvent your _face_ , you racist douchebag" Jesse had whispered under his breath after a quick retreat from the table, lest this guy’s companion actually agreed with him. 

And then there was last Tuesday:

_“I’m always going to prefer a film adaptation the book, you just get so much more from it.”_

"Oh my god."

That time Jesse couldn't hold his comment in prior to leaving the table, and when both diners looked up at him, eyebrows raised in silent questions he said, "Gosh, that fork is dirty, be right back."

___________________________________

In addition to mind-numbing conversations, Jesse gets to witness a whole slew of things at his job. Breakups, awkward first dates, familiar dates that are taking their conversation a little too far in public (which also ends up being awkward), celebrities he doesn't recognize half the time (Emma just shakes her head as they pass each other and then later shows him on her phone just whom he was serving, while Jesse pretends to care). 

Tonight, it definitely seemed to be first date territory for table 22. At least, Jesse hoped so, otherwise this guy's boyfriend was a real dick. And it would be kind of disappointing for this individual with poofy hair and really nice eyes to be in a relationship with a dick. 

"The service here is terrible." That's the first thing he heard the guy say to make him dislike him. It had totally surprised Jesse too, since he couldn’t think of one thing he did wrong in the few seconds he’d been in their company. Nevertheless, Asshole with the Stupid Face murmured it with a mean laugh as Jesse had walked away after taking their drink order and it set him on edge. 

At least the other guy -- Poofy Hair Nice Eyes -- had said, "I thought he was lovely." 

And great, Poofy Hair Nice Eyes had a British accent. 

That had been the first strike in Jesse's book, but it apparently wasn’t about to be the last. 

The next time he comes over, Asshole with the Stupid Face is describing, in painstaking detail, all the ways in which America is superior to Britain. 

Jesse isn’t even _British_ and he’s offended. He wonders if Stupid Face is actively trying to sabotage this date or something. Poofy Hair barely betrays any sort of anger, he just kind of smiles easily up at Jesse while shaking his head and replying, "I refuse to dignify any of that with a response," to his asshole date. 

To Jesse he says, "Is the Chicken Scampi a good choice?" 

Jesse shrugs. "I suppose." 

Poofy Hair raises an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you supposed to tell me it's the best thing on the menu?" 

"I've never actually tried anything on this menu and I prefer not to lie. I always think my mother will somehow find out and look disapproving." 

Poofy Hair laughs loudly. "Your mum will find out if you’ve told a white lie to a customer?" 

"Never underestimate the abilities of a Jewish mother," Jesse deadpans. 

The guy laughs again, a gorgeous, lilting thing. 

"Whenever you're through flirting with our waiter," Stupid Face cuts in, obnoxiously. 

Now Jesse sees the barest flair of anger in Poofy Hair's eyes before he turns to the other guy, smiling blithely."I'm being friendly, Steven." 

Jesse can practically _hear_ the unspoken part of that sentence: _perhaps you should try it sometime_. 

Poofy Hair's eyes are on Jesse again, and damn, they really are big and nice and _sweet_. Jesse doesn't look at many people and think _sweet_. He mostly doesn't look at anyone at all, actually. But this guy he kind of just wants to wrap up in a blanket and keep him in his house with hot chocolate for days. Which is possibly the most ridiculous thought he's ever had, because Jesse doesn't really care about hot chocolate (coffee, always coffee) and probably has none in his house and his blankets are all worn and full of cat hair.

But nevertheless, the sentiment is there. And he hasn't felt that sentiment since his last relationship ended over a year ago. 

"Anyway, I'll take the Chicken Scampi, Jesse," is what he's saying as he smiles up at Jesse again. 

Jesse startles at hearing his own name, and then remembers he gave it to them when he first came over. No one ever uses his name, ever. He assumes he's always referred to as "the waiter" in people's heads or when they talk amongst themselves. He’s not sure if he likes or dislikes the change this time around. 

This guy is confusing the shit out of him and Jesse's only been in his presence for a total of five minutes, maximum. 

"And for you?" he says, turning to Stupid Face who's name is Steven apparently but Jesse doesn't give a fuck. He'd rather find out the other guy's name. 

"I'll take the veal." 

Jesse nods and turns away before he says something like, "Of course you're the type of person who eats baby cows." 

In retrospect it probably isn't too good of an insult anyway. 

There are probably a lot of people who eat baby cows.  
_________________________________

"Go over there," Kristen says, when Jesse's got a lull in his tables and he's just standing next to her hostess stand because he's bored as fuck. 

"Go over where?" he asks blankly. 

She rolls her eyes. "To where you've been staring at the last five minutes like a creeper." 

"I'm not doing anything," Jesse says, and then realizes yeah, he had just been looking at table 22. He couldn't really see much. Just the side of their faces. Poofy Hair Nice Eyes didn't laugh at all through their meal, which was kind of a travesty. He looked kind of tense actually and Jesse didn't really envy him. Bad dates were kind of the reason he hasn't dated in forever. The very thought made him anxious, almost as anxious as a good date and then being in a relationship again and having to try to make someone happy or at least not make them miserable.

He had a hard enough time balancing those things when it came to himself. 

"Sure, Eisenberg," she says. "Look, he's alone at the table now. Just go over and ask how everything is. That's your _job_." 

Well. She has a point. 

Jesse sighs, wipes his hands on the front of his pants and gets moving. 

His hand starts to shake halfway through and wow, now isn't the time for his anxiety to be setting in. He usually can handle shit at work pretty well now. The abundance of people and demands no longer makes him feel like his skin is itching. "How, uh, how is everything this evening, sir?" Jesse says when he's in front of table 22. He tries to keep his voice steady and professional. 

Poofy Hair flops back in his seat, shoulders relaxing. "Oh gosh, it's so good to see you. I'd have attempted morse code or something, but I'm afraid I haven't got the slightest idea how it works." 

Jesse blinks at him. "Um. Neither do I." 

Poofy Hair drags a hand through his -- well, poofy hair. It's a gorgeous sight. "Well at any rate, I'm waving the white flag, SOS, the whole lot." 

Jesse's mouth twitches in a grin. "Yeah? I guess that means you won't be having dessert." 

"Absolutely not," he agrees firmly, then sighs. "He seemed completely different on OKCupid." 

Jesse rolls his eyes fondly. "People usually do." 

He raises an eyebrow at Jesse. "A lot of experience there, have you?" 

Jesse coughs, trying not to blush. That definitely sounded flirty. Maybe this guy is just a natural flirt. "Just the opposite actually." 

Poofy Hair hums. "That's too bad." 

Jesse doesn't even know what to say to that. 

He's opening his mouth to say -- something, anything, when Poofy Hair continues. "Means I won't see you on there." 

The words this time aren't flirty. They're sweet, earnest. Adorable. 

They make Jesse's head spin and his pulse race. "Well," he says around the lump in his throat. "You know where I work." 

Poofy Hair blinks at him, like he wasn't expecting that. His eyes cut away, and then he looks back quickly. "I'm Andrew," he says, smiling wide. "And I'm about ready for this first date to be a last." 

"Well, I should just get you the check then, shouldn't I?" 

He walks away just as Stupid Face is coming back to the table and saying, "Well? Dessert?" 

"No, I don’t think so," he hears Andrew say. 

Jesse smiles all the way back to his station, smiles when he prints the check, smiles when he leaves it on the table between them. 

They don't leave together. Stupid Face Steven walks out first, and Jesse really hopes that Stupid Face Steven didn't try to stick Andrew with the entire bill. 

He's putting in the order for another table when a throat clears behind him and he notices Andrew, standing near the bar, off to the side of Jesse. "Um, hey," he says, waving a little, smiling sheepishly and shifting from one foot to the other. 

Jesse doesn't even know what to do with a person like this. 

"Hey," he says, because he supposes that's a thing he could do. 

"So, would you happen to have a recommendation for food -- elsewhere in this city?" 

"Um," Jesse says, blinking. "Well, no, I kind of hate restaurants. And going out to them." 

Andrew laughs, delightedly. "You work in one!" 

"Uh, yes, exactly." 

"Do you eat at all, Jesse?" He's grinning widely, sounding amused. Jesse's not sure if he's being laughed at or with. 

He frowns. "Well, yes, of course. That's just -- stupid." 

Andrew laughs again. "Alright, so do you take food _in_ when you eat or do you cook or --" 

Jesse shrugs. "A little of both." He chews on his lip, considering. "There's a good pita place near me." 

Andrew nods seriously. "Okay -- seeing as you don't go out to eat, would you be adverse to us ordering from this pita place one evening and having dinner in your apartment? Or is that too forward of me?" 

Jesse only knows he's gaping because there's air coming into in through his parted lips. He gets himself together enough to say, "Yeah. Yes, yeah. I mean-- no, that's not too forward. That sounds -- lovely, isn't that a thing you say? That sounds lovely." 

Andrew's grinning widely again by the time Jesse's done babbling, and it's only then Jesse notices there was something creased in his face like worry a moment ago. Like Jesse would actually say no or something. 

" _You're_ lovely," Andrew says, smiling so hard it must hurt his face. How the hell do people actually smile like that, Jesse thinks. "Um." He looks around. "I realize you're working, but can I get your number?" 

"Oh," Jesses says. "Right." He grabs his pen from his pocket, tears off a piece of paper from his pad and quickly writes it down, hoping his boss isn't watching. He's not exactly sure he can get fired for this, but you never know. 

"Great," Andrew says. "I'll um, call or text or -- something." 

It's the first time _Andrew_ 's seemed kind of nervous. It puts him at ease, actually. 

"Okay," Jesse says, feeling a rush of giddy excitement he can't remember having last. 

He tells himself not to get his hopes up.

He’s got a good feeling about this, though. 

He’s a pretty good judge of character.  
______________________

Years later, they'll be at a party at holiday party at one of Andrew's friends houses, with Andrew's arm thrown around Jesse's neck as he drinks hot chocolate with marshmallows (of course he was the type; Jesse wasn't wrong about much when it came to his first impression of Andrew) while Jesse drinks egg nog. Someone will ask them how they met. 

Andrew will say, "I met him on the worst date of my life." 

People won't really get it. 

Jesse will. 

[end]


End file.
